Giving Thanks
by jakela
Summary: Shaw rolled her eyes. "This is such BS. They should say what Thanksgiving really is." Finch adjusted his glasses, Reese raised an eyebrow and Fusco grimaced. They all glanced at Carter. Taking a deep breath, she pierced them all with a 'you owe me' glare, then turned towards the tiny op. "And that is, Sam?" UPDATED - One more chapter, rating is now M. Always Careese.
1. Chapter 1

Giving Thanks – Chapter 1

Through the safe house windows, the team watched balloons for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade float by. They could hear the announcer talking about how the holiday was a time for celebration and togetherness.

Shaw rolled her eyes. "This is such BS. They should say what Thanksgiving really is."

Finch adjusted his glasses, Reese raised an eyebrow and Fusco grimaced.

They all glanced at Carter.

Taking a deep breath, she pierced them all with a _'you owe me'_ glare, then turned towards the tiny op. "And that _is_ , Sam?"

"It's a ritual sacrifice. You kill an animal, anoint it with spices, gather with people you wouldn't be caught dead with," Shaw glanced dismissively at Finch, Reese and Fusco, before smiling softly at Carter, "and worship its roasted carcass for a few hours. You pray –" her eyes flickered over the three men, "that you won't kill any of them before the next Thanksgiving, then you slump in front of the TV in a food coma and watch ritualized violence masquerading as a sporting event." She paused, thinking. "I like that part."

"Anything else?" Carter asked.

"Pie. I like pumpkin pie."

Reese shook his head. "No. Sweet potato."

Fusco frowned. "Sweet potato? Can you even get that here?"

"Uptown. Had some good ones. But my favorite is…homemade."

Shaw smirks. "Any home, John?"

"No." his eyes soften as he gazes at Carter. "Just one."

"Well, if any of us are planning a ritual sacrifice of our own, I suggest we look into what our latest Number has been up to," Finch said, as he slid several photos across the table.


	2. Chapter 2

Giving Thanks – Chapter 2

Marissa, the young potter, poked her head in the studio door. "It's T-day down the hall, Grace! Come join us!"

Regina, an award winning textile designer, stood next to her. "It's one of the benefits of renting a space here – so many of us come from all over, and we all can't get home for the holiday, so we throw something together. It's nothing special," she smoothed back her gray hair, "we never know what anybody's going to bring," she and Marissa shared a smile, "but it's fun!"

Grace Hendricks smiled softly. "Thanks for the invitation, ladies, but I'm just going to finish up this last section and head home."

"Okay…" Marissa murmured, glancing at Regina.

"If you change your mind," Regina nodded.

Both women smiled at Grace and disappeared.

Turning back to her mural, Grace sighed as she heard the sounds of people gathering together. The holidays were always difficult for her. Her father had been an alcoholic and she had sad memories of wanting every holiday to be different, and for a while they always were – at first, her father was sober and charming, but then that 'one drink' turned into many, and the sober, charming man turned into a mean, nasty drunk and the day was ruined.

Being with Harold had made those sad days a distant memory, but her fiancé had been killed in a ferry explosion several years ago, and now all that Grace looked forward to was a quiet evening at home.

"Grace Hendricks?"

"Yes, that's me." She turned around as a tall uniformed man carrying a box stood at the entrance to her studio.

"Had some trouble finding you, but your neighbor said that you were working here." He eyed the huge waterfront scene she was painting. "Nice. That by Battery Park?"

"Yes," she beamed. "It's one of those new 'pocket gardens' they've been installing around the city. I have a commission to do murals of all of them for the 'Greening of New York' conference at the Javits Center next year."

He nodded approvingly as he walked into her space. "I just need you to sign for this and you can get back to your work."

Grace gazed at him as she handed back the signed form. As an artist, she studied faces, and the strikingly beautiful bone structure of this man's face reminded her of a police officer she met several years ago; he had been checking a possible disturbance in the neighborhood and they had talked briefly about her Harold. "You look familiar," she smiled. "Do you have a brother who works for the city?"

He adjusted his mirrored sunglasses. "Nope. Just think I have one of those faces, ma'am. Have a good holiday." Smiling at her, he turned around and walked out.

Grace opened the package. Inside was a sweet potato pie.

"Ohhhh…" she held it up to her nose. Whoever baked this knew what they were doing, she thought, as memories, happy memories, from her childhood in South Carolina, came back to her in a rush.

There was the sound of laughter as more people joined the celebration down the hall.

Just go, she told herself.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Grace hurried down the hall.

"Is it too late for me to join you?" she asked the group.

"Never too late," Regina smiled as she put her arm around her.

Marissa pulled out an empty chair, and Grace sat beside her. "One of my clients sent me a sweet potato pie!"

"I've always wanted to try that," Marty, the jewelry designer smiled at her.

"Not if I get to it first," Regina mock glared at him, then she took a picture of the group. "Let's eat!"

XXX

Reese handed him a thermos. "Sencha tea. You're going to get cold sitting out here."

"Thank you, Mr. Reese. I'm not planning on staying long," Finch lied.

A soft smile traced across his friend's lips and Finch knew that Reese didn't believe him.

He angled his body slightly to get a better view of the gathering through the artists' collective windows. "Grace is…well?" he asked softly.

Reese nodded. "She's good, Harold."

"Thank you, John. And please, give my best to Detective Carter."

"I will." Nodding again, Reese turned around and left.

Finch watched the artists enjoying their feast. He smiled as they pushed back the tables and danced, Grace's red hair shimmering under the soft lights as she whirled around. As he knew she would, Grace helped with the clean up, her nimble fingers quickly wrapping up leftovers for the others to take home.

The pie, a highlight of the meal, had been devoured hours ago.

As she walked out of the building, Marty, the jewelry designer, asked Grace if she wanted to get a cup of coffee.

Finch had researched the man thoroughly, when it had become clear that the widower was interested in her. He was a hard working, honest and extremely talented man, whose wife had died five years ago from cancer.

Time enough, Harold thought, to start thinking about moving on.

Harold knew that the other artists had schemed to have Grace sit next to him at the feast, and were thrilled when she joined them.

He watched her shining face hesitate for a moment, then Grace nodded.

With feelings of joy and sadness, Finch watched them walk away.

Slowly, he rose to his feet, grimacing at the pain. He knew he'd pay for it tomorrow, but as he heard Grace's soft laugh in the distance, he knew the hours he'd spent sitting here was worth it.

With a smile, he limped away.

A/N: Even though it's clear in this drabble that Grace still cares very deeply for Finch, I wanted to show her moving on in little ways, like renting the studio to complete her murals, so that she was engaging with other people. She had always been shown as somewhat solitary and being w/Finch would have exacerbated that, since he needed to stay hidden. Even if nothing romantic happens btw her and the jewelry designer, it was interesting to see her consciously make a choice to meet new people and hopefully develop new friendships. In this tale, Finch wants her to be happy, even if that means another man.


	3. Chapter 3

Giving Thanks – Chapter 3

"No," Lionel Fusco said as he locked his car.

"The tall man on a motorcycle raised an eyebrow. "I haven't asked you for anything, Lionel."

"You will…right?" Fusco frowned at him, half hoping, half dreading that he would.

Reaching a long arm behind him, Reese unhooked a box and handed it to the detective. "Take it, Lionel. You're supposed to bring something. It's good…" Reese frowned, as if he was recalling something someone said to him, "etiquette."

Fusco snorted. "When was the last time _you_ brought something, Wonderboy, besides a bad attitude?"

Reese smirked. "C4, at our last 'gathering.'"

"Blowing up a bunch of arms dealers is not a gathering!" Sighing, he took the box. "Got any more of that C4 left? I might need it before the night is over."

"Sorry, fresh out."

Fusco watched him ride away. "Yeah, well what good are ya then," he muttered, as he listened to the engine fade in the distance.

Grimacing, Fusco made his way up the sidewalk.

He grudgingly admired the new fence, aluminum siding and mailbox; as Lee had gotten older, he no longer needed to go to the house to pick him up, and it had been several months since he'd visited his old home.

Several months, he admitted to himself, since his former mother in law had all too happily informed him that her daughter was seeing the man who had done the work on the house.

The way she jabbered on about the guy, cornering Fusco in a checkout line, while the world's slowest cashier mangled the few items he had, the man had built half the borough, and it was only a matter of time before he made 'my daughter' and 'my grandson' the happiest people on earth.

It was déjà vu all over again last week, when he was stuck in the same checkout line, with the same cashier, that she cornered him again. This time she smugly told him that while she would be with Lainie's brother in Far Rockaway for the day, she was sure that he wouldn't be the only 'guest' at Lainie's dinner.

He was never going to that grocery store again, Fusco vowed, as he opened the gate.

In fact, he was never setting foot in a grocery store ever again.

"Dad!" Lee bounded down the front steps. "You made it!"

"Hey, champ," Fusco smiled as he hugged his son. "Wouldn't have missed this for the world."

"Hey, Li," Lainie Fusco stepped outside. "Thanks for comin'."

They stood there for a moment, gazing at each other, then hugged awkwardly.

"You cut your hair," Fusco said softly.

"Yeah, felt like somethin' new," she shrugged.

A light breeze tousled her dark curls and his breath caught at how beautiful she was.

"You look great, Lai, really great."

"Thanks," she nodded, her voice now as soft as his.

They gazed at each other again, then Fusco looked past her through the open front door. "Everything okay in there?"

A faint cloud of smoke was wafting out onto the porch.

She sighed. "Some issues with the new double oven – the one cookin' the turkey's okay, but –"

"Mom burnt the pie!" Lee cut in. "It looks like a giant hockey puck!"

"It is –" Lainie mock glared at her son, "a little crispy. I've got ice cream –"

"No problem," Fusco held up his arm. "Got pie right here. Sweet potato."

She frowned. "Tried it for the first time last month, when I took that buying trip to Atlanta…" she smiled at his worried face. "Loved it – had it three times that week."

Fusco smiled to himself. 'My First Name is Detective' Carter and the Bane of My Existence had saved the day, once again.

"Great!" He handed the pie to Lee and they all went inside.

Fusco raised his eyebrows at the dining area table.

It was set for three.

"I thought – it's just us?" Fusco turned to her, as Lee went into the kitchen.

"Yeah. That's okay, right?"

"Yeah – it's just – your mom –" his heart sunk as she glared, a real glare, at him.

Lainie stepped close to him. "First of all, Lionel Fusco," she hissed, "if I was gonna seriously bring a man into my life, into _our_ son's life, I'd tell you! And secondly, you neva listened to my mother when we were married, so don't start now." Her voice softened. "We went out a few times. He's a nice guy, but…" she shrugged. "That was it. Okay?"

"Okay."

"We still got a few things to do before we can eat." She jerked her head towards the coat rack. "Hang up your stuff and get to work. You're not a guest here, ya know."

"Yes, ma'am," he smiled.

She turned towards the kitchen, then turned back. "You're family."

Their eyes met and held, then Lainie headed towards the kitchen.

Fusco hung up his coat and followed her.


	4. Chapter 4

Giving Thanks – Chapter 4

Shaw wrenched open her apartment door. "Thisbettabegood," she snarled as she gnawed on a gigantic turkey leg.

Reese handed her a box. "Pie. And it is."

Jamming the turkey leg between her teeth, Shaw snatched the box out of his hands and slammed the door shut.

"You're welcome," she heard him chuckle as he walked away.

"Yeahwellseeaboutthat," she mumbled.

Shaw's Spartan place was dominated by three things.

A huge bed.

A huge refrigerator.

And a huge table.

She walked over to the table, which was already littered with the carcass of a gigantic turkey and over a dozen half empty take out containers.

Her eyes widened as she opened the box.

Reverently setting it down on the table, Shaw took the turkey leg out of her mouth and dropped it next to the carcass.

Breaking off a bit of the pie crust, she dredged it in the filling, closed her eyes and took a bite.

"Ohhhhh…" she shuddered, then shuddered again, as she finished eating that bit of crust and filling.

This pie wasn't just good, Shaw thought. It was amazing, incredible, stupendous – she felt dizzy as words, multi-syllabic, descriptive words, words that she didn't even know she knew, much less would have ever uttered, filled her brain.

Shakily, she poured herself a shot of Diesel, using both hands to bring the glass to her lips as she slowly drained it.

Taking a deep breath, Shaw tapped her earpiece.

"Well?" Reese drawled, not bothering to hide the smugness in his voice.

"It's…" she took another deep breath, "better than sex."

"That all depends on who you're having sex _with_ , Shaw," he replied, sounding even more smug.

Yeah, Shaw's lips quirked. He would have to rub that in.

"Tell Carter thanks."

"I will."

"And…" she paused, not sure what to say next. She didn't get what people saw in Reese, certainly not someone like Carter, who had a kid, a job, put up with crap that Shaw couldn't even begin to imagine and was incredibly hot, all while being a badass, a real badass.

But if Carter saw something in him, maybe Shaw did too.

Maybe she saw a friend.

After all, he did bring her this pie, when he could be having better than pie sex with Carter.

"Thanks, John," she said softly.

"You're welcome, Sam. Have a good night."

"Yeah. You, too."

As Shaw tapped her earpiece, she looked at the huge turkey carcass, the takeout containers, the plastic utensils and the shopping bags strewn across the table.

She put everything away, except the pie.

Opening a cupboard, Shaw took out a plate, a real plate. She then fished a fork and knife out of the silverware drawer.

The room became quiet and still as she clicked off the football game blaring on her television.

Like a skilled surgeon, she cut herself a slice of the pie and put it on the plate.

And with a smile, a real smile, Sameen Shaw sat down and enjoyed every single bite.


	5. Chapter 5

Giving Thanks – Chapter 5

"How did you know, John," Joan shook her head, as light from a candlelit pie softly illuminated her corner of the old factory where she lived.

Reese shrugged as he sat beside her. "I just knew." Smiling, he tilted his head at her. "What's it like, being a Thanksgiving baby?"

Joan chuckled. "Made the paper the day I was born – Ma was a skinny little thing, didn't even know she was expectin' – thought she had indigestion, 'til it got so bad that Daddy rushed her to the hospital. Next thing they knew, I popped out. Even though my birthday wasn't on Thanksgiving every year, everybody in town knew who I was!" she smiled.

"That must have been nice."

"It was," Joan nodded, and then her face clouded over, "until it wasn't. Sometimes, bein' in a town like this, where nobody knows you, well…" she glanced at Reese.

He nodded. "Yeah."

Joan never talked about what had driven her from her little mountain town, and while Reese had sensed what had happened to her, they never talked about it, just as he had never talked about what had driven him to the streets and almost to suicide until a homicide detective had walked into a dingy room in an even dingier police station and changed his life.

It was enough that he and Joan had understood each other.

She nodded again and then her face determinedly brightened. "But then you get to know people, good people, like your girl! She came by to see me the other day, you know – made sure that I went to my follow up appointment."

"She just wants to make sure you're okay, Joan."

"And I am, John," Joan smiled, "thanks to her." Her face flushed in the soft candlelight. "It was good…to have a woman…to talk to."

Several months ago, during one of his regular visits to check up on her, Reese had observed that Joan was in pain. For weeks, she dismissed it, brushing off his and others attempts to get her to see a doctor, until Reese, seeing that her pain was getting worse and worse, had asked Joss to see her.

Two hours later, Reese was driving Joan to a private hospital, where she immediately went into surgery, for what she would only say to him was a 'female problem.'

While he knew that Joan would never leave the streets, Reese was determined to keep her well, and he knew that the quiet friendship that Joss had formed with the older woman will help do that.

"Oh, she's so pretty, John, and so smart! And that girl –" Joan's eyes misted over, "she doesn't say it, but I can tell that that girl loves you with everything she's got." She clasped his hand. "Hold on to that, and to her."

Reese felt his own eyes filling with tears. "I'm tryin', Joan, I'm tryin'," he whispered.

She squeezed his hand tightly. "Hold to the fact that you love her with everything you got, too, John."

Nodding, he let the tears run down his face.

Reese choked back a sob as Joan leaned over and kissed his cheek.

She slowly released his hand, then nodded and clapped hers together. "Well, I'd betta make a wish."

Closing her eyes, her lips fluttered as she silently made a wish, then without opening her eyes, she blew the candle out.

Turning to him as she opened her eyes, Joan said with a soft smile. "I'm not sharin' this pie with you. So you get outta here, and go home to your girl."

Reese kissed her forehead, then stood up and walked out of the old factory.

A/N: Thanksgiving in the US falls on the 4th Thursday of November, so the actual date varies. For example, if someone was born on Thanksgiving Day this year, which was November 24th, it would fall on their b'day again in 2022 and then not until 2033.


	6. Chapter 6

Giving Thanks – Chapter 6

Reese silently let himself in the back door of Joss's townhouse.

Bear, who he knew had been curled up at her feet all evening, padded silently into the kitchen, his dark brown eyes letting Reese know that the woman they both loved was safely curled up on the couch, waiting up for him.

Reese took off his overcoat, leaned down, scratched the dog behind his ears and then silently walked into the living room.

He stood there for a moment, watching her sleep.

She was so beautiful, he thought, in so many ways.

Especially the way that she loved the people she cared about, including him.

I don't deserve it, he thought.

I don't deserve her.

But he knew that even though sometimes he'd deny it, even though sometimes he'd try to run away from it, he'd struggle, and fight and claw his way back to keep it, until his dying breath.

He'd hold on to it.

He'd hold on to her.

She stirred and smiled at him. "Hey."

"Hello, Detective." He crossed the room and sat down beside her. "Taylor and Paul arrive okay?"

"Yeah," Joss smiled. "Two delayed flights, a mix up at the rental car agency and then a massive traffic jam, but they finally got there."

Picking up her phone from the coffee table, she swiftly brought up a photo of a smiling Taylor holding up a pie in front of her former in-laws condo.

Tired of the New York winters, they'd moved to the southwest years ago, and Reese knew that while Joss was happy that her son and her ex-husband were doing so well, she was sad that Taylor wasn't here with her.

Taylor's pie was the first pie she made.

"Good," he nodded.

She tilted her head at him. "Everybody okay?"

"Remember who we're talking about, Carter," he smirked at her. "'Okay' is a relative term." The smirk turned into a genuine, gentle smile. "Yeah. And they all thank you, Joss. Very much."

She gave him that look. "Well, _someone_ dumped around 800 pounds of sweet potatoes in my kitchen, so I had to do something with them." Joss smiled. "Good." Her eyes softened. "And thank you, John, for making the deliveries."

"Any time, Joss, any time." He tilted his head at her. "I do have one last thing to do, though."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's that?"

"You cooked for hours, now it's my turn." Reese stood up, and pulled Joss to her feet. "I'm going to create a recipe."

She squealed as he lifted her up and tossed her over his shoulder.

"A very special recipe."

" _What?!_ John! What are you doing! Put me _down!"_

"Sssh, Carter, I'm gathering my ingredients."

Winking at Bear, who stood there, slack jawed, watching his humans, Reese carried Joss into the kitchen, where the last pie shimmered on the counter.

Picking up the pie, he opened a cupboard with his other hand and grabbed two wine glasses, then he pried open the refrigerator door with a finger.

Turning around, he murmured to Joss. "My hands are full. Can you grab the hard cider?"

"The what? Oh! You are unbelievable!" Grumbling, she grabbed the container, slapping it sharply against his backside.

"Thanks. And careful, Detective," Reese smirked, as he shut the door with his hip, "I might like that."

Swiftly striding into her bedroom, Reese flicked the light switch on, deftly deposited the pie and the glasses on one bedside table, then crossed over to the other side of the bed, so that Joss could place the hard cider on the table over there.

"What is this so called recipe called, John," she sputtered.

Gently, he lifted Joss off his shoulder and laid her carefully down on the bed.

"Dessert, Carter. What do they say, 'Life's short, you should eat dessert first'?" His eyes slowly ran up her body. "Well, I plan on…eating…every…delicious… _succ_ ulent…bite."

Her hair spilled out over the pillows, her chest was heaving, her lips were parted and her eyes were flashing with desire. "That could take a while."

"We have time…and I think you'll find that I have a…big…appetite, Detective."

Her eyes drifted down his body, lingering at his cock, which was dying to be released from clothing that was suddenly, way, way too tight. "Well, I do like a man who cleans his plate."

He gave her a predatory smile. "Every drop. Every…last…drop."

Joss reached out her hand and Reese climbed onto the bed and laid down beside her.

His smile faded as he gazed into her eyes.

He thought about his friends – the loves lost, the loves possibly regained, the loves never found.

He knew that they had regrets, even Shaw.

He knew that he didn't want to have any regrets, not today.

So even though he had shown Joss that he loved her in so many ways, he knew today, that he had to tell her.

Reese stroked her satiny cheek. "Thank you, for giving me the honor and the privilege of loving you, Jocelyn Carter. And thank you," his voice broke, "for loving me."

Tears sprang to her eyes. "You are a blessing to me, John Reese, every, single, day."

Cupping her cheek, he kissed her. "I love you, Joss."

"I love you, John." She smiled at him, then her brow crinkled in that one of a kind Joss Carter way. "You didn't bring in any utensils. How are we supposed to eat this pie?"

Reese smiled, as he pulled her into his arms. "We'll figure it out, Joss. We'll figure it out."

A/N: Special thanks the Reese/Carter Shippers FB group that originally inspired chapter one of this tale, that then grew into this longer story. I'd also like to thank the wonderful Careese fic writers, reviewers and those folks who have supported these great characters and the folks they interact w/in the POI universe.


	7. Chapter 7

Giving Thanks – Epilogue

"Nothing from Finch?" Joss asked as Reese disconnected the call.

"Nope. I'm as free as a bird. How 'bout you?"

"Same. Got the day off, but I just checked with Fusco to see if anything popped up on one of our cases." Joss raised both eyebrows. "He let slip that he spent the night at his ex-wife's house – on the couch," she added.

"Interesting," Reese raised his eyebrows as well.

"Very."

They shared a conspiratorial smile.

"So…" Reese murmured, "What do you want to do today, Carter? Shop?"

She made a face.

"College football?"

That got a blank stare.

"Hallmark Holiday movies?"

She threw a pillow at him.

"Well you must want to do something…" he ran a finger in a swirl of pie filling that was jealously clinging to her thigh. "You hungry? We didn't eat much of that pie last night."

The sheets, pillows and most of their bodies were covered with pie filling; the only thing that wasn't, miraculously, was Joss's hair, which Reese had nimbly twisted into a loose topknot, while slowly entering her from behind, during one of their joyous lovemaking sessions last night.

Joss smirked as he used the filling to spell out the word, _'mine'_ on her skin.

"True," she nodded, as she trailed her finger along his chest, making him chuckle as she spelled out the words _'you wish'_ in the filling on his skin," but I do think…" her eyes lingered on his mouth, then slowly traveled up to his hair, "we found somethin' to finally tame that cowlick that you keep fussin' with."

"Really?" Reese said, half seriously, looking around for a mirror, but then he remembered that it had somehow fallen behind the dresser last night.

 _Bear had rushed into the room, taken one look at Joss precariously perched on the edge of the dresser, with Reese's face happily buried between her thighs, uttered the canine version of an exasperated sigh and walked out._

 _Moments later, they heard a sliding sound as he dragged his doggie bed, which was outside the bedroom door, down the hall, towards Taylor's room._

 _Reese scooped Joss up into his arms and they tumbled onto the bed, laughing hysterically as Bear pulled his bed into the teen's room._

" _Did you ever talk to_ _your_ _son about the birds and the bees, John?" Joss whispered, as she wrapped her legs around his waist._

" _He's_ _our_ _son, now, Joss, and I think we both need to talk to him, together…tomorrow," Reese replied, nuzzling her neck, as his cock found its rightful home inside her._

Joss gave him that look as he tentatively touched his hair. "They may not hear you comin', John, but 'eau de sweet po-tat-o' might make it hard to sneak up on somebody."

"I don't sneak, Carter, but," his lips quirked, "you might be right."

Joss grabbed the pie plate, which was at the foot of the bed. She tilted it at him. "Whattaya know, there's still some left."

There was a long strip of pie crust ringing the edge of the pie plate and good sized dollop of filling inside.

With a wicked smile, Joss broke off the strip of pie crust and dredged it in the filling, carefully sliding it deep into the filling and then slowly pulling it out.

"Joss…" Reese's mouth slowly fell open.

She did that several times, until the strip of crust was glistening with the delectable filling.

Lifting the strip up, she put one end of it between her gorgeous lips.

"Jesus, Joss..."

Reese groaned as Joss slowly and deliberately slid that long strip of crust into her mouth. A few drops of filling slid down her hand and one lucky drop, which made him moan out loud, somehow managed to land on a beautiful dark brown nipple that he was desperate to take into his mouth and suck clean.

Taking her hand, he licked off the drops of filling, then flicked his tongue along her palm, up her arm and across her shoulder.

Cupping her face, he gave her a slow, lingering kiss, then Reese trailed his tongue down her neck and along her chest until he reached that filling covered nipple.

He touched just the tip of his tongue to it, and then slowly flicked his tongue over it, carefully licking it clean, while she moaned.

"I should be thorough, Joss, and make sure that I've gotten it all," he murmured as he took the nipple into his mouth.

"Please…do," she whispered as he sucked it greedily.

"I don't know…there may be some more over here," Reese frowned as he eyed her other nipple, as the other side of her body had jealously arched towards him.

"It pays to be…oh…" she gasped as he took that neglected nipple into his mouth, "diligent."

"I plan to be very diligent, Joss." He bit her nipple gently, smiling as she shuddered through her first orgasm. "Very diligent, indeed."

Their bodies twined together, and Reese marveled at how each time they made love it was so familiar, yet so new, how they went on daring and incredible adventures, while being safe in each other arms, how he thought it couldn't get any better and then it was better still, how much he loved her, loved her, loved her, loved her.

Now it was his turn to smile at her wickedly as he hovered above her parted thighs. "You had some 'filling', but now I'm going to give you the whole 'pie', Joss."

She greedily eyed his cock. "Well, they do say that Thanksgiving 'dinner' tastes better the next day, John."

"Well, I plan on giving you all you can eat…and more."

Slowly, reverently, he slid inside her.

He brought her to her peak more than once, and then finally, when he couldn't hold back any more, Reese cried out her name and exploded.

He said her name over and over again, while Joss held him, crooning, "I know, John, I know."

They lay there for a long while, then reluctantly got to their feet. There was a dog to feed and walk, linens to be washed, and they did need to eat.

"Anything you want to eat in particular, Carter?" Reese asked her, as they stripped the bed.

"Nah, you always make good stuff." She smirked at him. "Just save some room for pie."

Reese raised an eyebrow at her. "I thought they were all gone."

She chuckled. "I made one more and hid it in the cupboard."

Reese grinned at her. "I _**LOVE**_ you, Joss Carter."

Joss kissed his cheek. "I know."

Grabbing the sheets out of his hands, Joss turned to leave the bedroom.

She turned back and smiled. "I love you, too."

With a smile, Reese picked up the rest of the linens and followed her.


End file.
